I am in the Las Vegas airport waiting for the bus which will take us to the MGM Grand Hotel where Robuchon’s three Star Michelin restaurant is located. A young girl, apparently bored from the long wait, is chanting this tune over and over again.

The next day, while leaving Las Vegas for the greater pleasures and promises of California, I can’t help but murmur the same tune. With one difference:

“Twinkle twinkle little star
How I wonder WHERE I am
……..

Actually, WHERE is ROBUCHON ?

His restaurants, Les Ateliers, Les Tables, Les Joels, etc., are everywhere and probably three more will open before I finish writing this article. His photos are smiling at us in the foyers of Las Vegas. The dishes that made him famous, like “bar with verjus sauce”, “merlan frite”, “langoustine wrapped in cabbage” and many others are on various menus in his restaurants.

But where is that perfection, incredible rigor, painstaking attention to detail and mindboggling precision in cooking? Heavenly sauces? The quest for the freshest raw materials? The crazy insistence that each dish produced in the kitchen will have to make a culinary statement and linger in our memories forever? Where are all these qualities which made Robuchon one of the three best chefs of the 80s (along with Alain Chapel and Freddy Girardet)?

Well, they are inscribed in collective gustatory memory, at least in my memory.

So the Robuchon star is still twinkling, but…above the world…so high. Down here, we have many “littler” stars and one of them in at Las Vegas. How good is it?

It is good. Indeed very good. It is a truly French restaurant, presided overby a young”no non sense” and, quite rigorous, “meilleur ouvrier du France”chef, Monsieur Le-Tohic, who is helped in his endeavour by an excellent sommelier, most gracious maitre d’ and also a very talented dessert chef. The restaurant is an oasis of French civilization in the middle of a literal and cultural desert, and one feels in an enchanted temple as one enters the abode of Joel Robuchon after walking past the noisy slot machines located in an impersonal mega-hotel.

The chef of Robuchon, Monsieur Le-Tohic, does not aspire to be a culinary magician. He is rather a classically trained chef who is trying to cater to what Michelin would call “au gout du jour”, with especially the “gout Americaine” in mind. Hence he avoids taste combinations (for instance the use of offals) that the clientele may find offensive, he puts a premium on quantity (the number of plates), aesthetic (beautiful plating and small portions), and luxury ingredients (caviar, white and black truffles, kobe beef, turbot). Consequently, he tailors his cuisine to appeal to the largest common denominator.

The problem perhaps, if such a thing can be called a problem, is the absence of dishes which make a culinary statement, with some exceptions.

One exception was the variation on Iranian oscietra caviar. Proposed in three forms, with “crunchy smoked salmon and soft cooked quail egg”, ”bonito fish and asparagus flan,” and also in a “couscous and cucumber roulade”, this dish was sensational. The caviar quality was good, the synergy between the three components of the dish was well thought out, and the symbiosis between the elements of each preparation was perfect. You could not add or subtract anything from this dish to make it better.

Nearly as good was the “suckling veal millefeuille”. The dish was a harmonious combination of thinly cut veal chop, veal sweetbreads, matsutake mushrooms, and tofu. Topped by comte cheese tuile and black truffles, which were not bad given the early season for truffles (22 December 2007), the dish was perhaps a bit restrained in bringing out the taste of the sweetbread but each bite did justice to the constituent ingredients, while the sum was clearly more than the parts.

At the opposite extreme there were dishes which, one can call “average”. Surprisingly “les crustaces” was one of the average dishes. It too was comprised of three parts: “langoustine ravioli wrapped in cabbage”, “lobster roasted in lemon grass skewer,” and “sea urchin with a potato puree and a hint of coffee”. Conceptions were noteworthy, some classic. Unfortunately the langoustine was mushy, the (I believe Maine) lobster suffered from excessive use of spicy curry, and the “hint” of coffee turned out to be an overdose which emasculated the incomparable sweetness of perfectly good sea urchin, which were the freshest of the three crustaces on the plate.

Another surprisingly average dish was “soy bean cooked risotto style with almonds and chives”. It is not easy to understand why such a dish which did not blend with the rest was offered at the end of the meal, before the desserts. Would not it have been better to offer some cheese?

Last but not least, the “shaved white truffles” on potatoes with olive oil and carpaccio of foie gras suffered from both tasteless rubbery truffles and the misconception of proposing them with foie gras. Once you set aside the white truffles, however, the dish became acceptable.

Most other dishes fell in between the two extremes. They did not make culinary statements but displayed a deft hand in the kitchen which was doing its best given the quality of the raw materials. When the material was good, as such was the case with “matsutake mushrooms”, the resulting dish turned out to be very satisfying. The meaty/earthy mushrooms blended perfectly well with sliced tender sweet/sour turnips and smoky black truffles. Matsutake mushrooms also performed well in a smoky broth, slightly acidified by the careful use of sun dried tomatoes.

Equally satisfying was a wild oat soup, chorizo, chorizo oil and roasted almonds. This dish is an ideal soup for cold winter nights and what could have been a disastrously spicy and heavy soup in lesser hands did emerge as a “light” and uplifting soup which did not stem one’s appetite despite reliance on filling ingredients.

Unfortunately the quality of the “sea scallops”, the “Atlantic seabass” and “the turbot” were not on par in terms of freshness with what one could find, say in Brasserie Dome, in Paris. All were aptly cooked, but the two fish dishes suffered from the small portion size or small cuts of fish which were clearly not from the bone (which is the most gelatinous and moist). The ”seabass in sauce verjus” was a case in point where the nondescript/meager seabass could not counter the intensity of the excellent sauce (clearly Le-Tohic is a remarkable saucier) .

The turbot cooked in a casserole with artichoke hearts, asparagus and cherry tomatoes tasted more like a grouper than a Breton turbot, and the perfectly cooked sea scallop in a reduced lobster coral emulsion made one think that had Le-Tohic been able to put his hands on equal quality scallops as his Parisian peers, such as LeSquer or Pacaud, he would could have concocted a three star scallop dish.

The wagyu ribeye Le-Tohic sent us with his compliments at the end of the dinner was certainly better in quality than the Australian wagyu served at the French Laundry.

The bread cart was worth three stars, and so were the desserts and after dinner petit fours. The “roasted pear with pear sorbet, apple gelee and blackberry coulis” was an ideal refresher after such a long (six hours) and rich meal in great company. The chocolate “show”, which is a fondent/coulant with a hint of mint and mint sorbet had to be tasted to believe my statement that it was the best chocolate based dessert I have eaten in the United States. (It was so good that I forgot to take the picture.)

Orange peel covered with chocolate, pistachio macaroon, limoncello meringue, truffle, and, above all, cannele, as good as the best in Bordeaux, brought to an end a sumptuous feast.

In my opinion a leesy white burgundy is the best match for most of the dishes at Robuchon. We have not done too badly with a 2002 Meursault Chevalieres from Coche Dury which showed the “gras”, the intensity, and the balance characteristic of Coche wines. While the wine had not yet developed the telltale pain grille/hazelnut aromas and the depth of which it is capable, it was already quite complex. On the other hand, the half bottle of 2005 Graillot Crozes Hermitage was still tight and closed and could not enhance the flavour of great veal or beef.

Gastroville ranking: 16/20 (Vedat Milor)

I am happy to report that both restaurants are holding the highest standards, and both Pacaud and LeSquer are perfectionists albeit in different ways. Le Squer’s cuisine is still evolving and has not yet reached the impeccable maturity displayed by the 60 year old Pacaud who is still at the helm and looks very fit. While Le Squer is still tinkering with tradition and introducing some new dishes and amuses, Pacaud has attained a level of self confidence that should secure his name alongside the greatest chefs of this century.

Here are some short notes from the recent visits.

Pacaud does not want us to waste time with modish concoctions. His time tested “gougeres” with comte cheese are simply the best way to start a meal with Roederer champagne. He then sent to our table quasi raw slices of the freshest imaginable scallops from Brittany covered with a very foamy beurre blanc and topped by thickly cut Alba magnatum pico. When the foam melts, the cresson (watercress) puree shines like an emerald. This dish requires impeccable timing and should be served when it is hot. It is a great example of “terre et mer” combination.

Both restaurants found a good supply of Alba truffles in a difficult year. Le Squer of Ledoyen made great use of them in two successive courses. His “gnocchi with Alba truffles” was stunning for someone who had just come from Alba, because nobody in Italy (or elsewhere) makes gnocchi like a soufflé. They were so airy and light that one wonders if they are real. At the bottom of the dish were two thin layers: reggiano fondue and puree of Jerusalem artichokes. And there were good shavings of truffles on top. This dish shows why French cuisine still leads the world today. It takes two separate classics of Italian cuisine: fonduta with a root vegetable and gnocchi. It then blends them and plays with the texture to bring out the best in the truffle aroma. It was intelligent and harmonious. The use of technique (soufflé gnocchi) is not an end in itself, but a means to create a vehicle for truffle.

The next dish was equally successful. Le Squer is from Brittany, and he knows the best of shellfish. His scallops were on par with Pacaud in quality. He presented them in the shell. Then they were de-shelled. The scallops were barely steamed in the shell, and when they are that good—they are divine. Served with cooking juices, some turnips, and a generous shaving of white truffles, the dish was sublime.

Pacaud at L’Ambroise is also from Brittany, and his line caught large sea bass, which was delivered with a special means to the restaurant, was amazingly sweet and firm. Make sure you order the “escalopines de bar de ligne a l’emincee d’artichaut, caviar oscietre gold” when you see it on the menu. The raw thinly cut crunchy artichokes marry well with the seabass, and the cream sauce is both light and intense. The generous use of caviar, which does not get soggy and retains its texture in a warm dish, is a Pacaud secret. This dish is clearly a 20/20.

Both chefs like Brittany lobster. Le Squer at Ledoyen cooked it with a sealed lid, with a few tomatoes, chanterelles and chestnut. The dish is solid, very good.

But, I should say, the lobster at L’Ambroisie was not just better, it was “hors de classification,” because it is simply the best Breton lobster dish there is. (Yes I know the Roellinger versions.) The dish is called “fricassee de homard aux chataignes et potimarron, sauce diable”. One detects very fine ginger and espelette pepper taste in the sauce made by pressing the carcass. This dish alerts all the senses simultaneously. The balance it strikes between firm/iodized/sweet/salty/nutty/spicy should be tasted to be believed. It is a very complex, but not complicated dish, which is made to look simple.

We finished the meal with a rustic dish at Ledoyen. “Spaghetti au Jambon Blanc, Truffe et Parmesan.” The dish was both delicious and technically impeccable. Basically it is a Lard/black truffle combination which works. The rectangle box made from spaghetti contains quite a few nice surprises inside. Order it and see for yourself. Had LeSquer been born in Italy he would have been the only Italian chef that deserves three stars—I mean in the heyday of Michelin when stars were not given out as confettis.

When it is late fall, Pacaud at L’Ambroisie prepares the best game pie on earth: “Tourte de canard Colvert”. Since I have written before on this dish I won’t repeat it. Suffice it to say that the four elements of the dish, the wild duck breast, the thigh, the filet of veal, and duck liver, were all cooked to perfection. It was cooked to order, and the crust was perfect

Desserts are a strong suit in both places. Possibly “croquant de pamplemousse” at Ledoyen is the best grapefruit based dessert in Paris, and his “blanc manger” infused with yeast flavor is reminiscent of someone’s childhood memories growing up next to a bakery in the French countryside.

In return Pacaud offers very refreshing desserts which go well after the rich tart (such as “Strates de nougatine a la poire sorbet William.” But his classic “Tarte fine sable au cacao amer, glace a la vanilla” is still unsurpassed in this world as far as chocolate desserts go.

Both restaurants do possess some of the most professional hosts any restaurant can aspire to have, and Monsieur Simiand at Ledoyen and Madame Pacaud and Monsieur Lemoullac at L’Ambroisie (and the captains, such as Pascal Vettaux at L’Ambroisie whose advice should be asked for) are as important to the institutionalization of these two restaurants as the kitchen staff.

It is also advisable to interact with Monsieur Tournier at Ledoyen and Monsieur Lemoullac at L’Ambroisie to learn about some gems on the wine list which are not obvious. I don’t want to mention some of them by name because I want to drink these bottles myself, and would hate to see them vanish from the list!

Gastroville ranking:
L’Ambroisie 19.5 (Vedat Milor)
Ledoyen 19 (Vedat Milor)

There is also good food to be had.

This time we chose Roque Gageac as our place to stay. Hotel LA BELLE ETOILE has a great location, prices don’t hurt, and the owners are friendly.

Desserts were fine. The 2000 Pomerol Chateau Valois was silky and a good match with lamb. Especially for the price, this is what I would call “good modern bistro” food.

It was a lovely welcome to France.

The next day we awoke up with a lovely sunny and blue sky. The riverfront at Roque Gageac is a lovely place for a stroll.

A simple lunch in the city of Sarlat featured a fine salad perigourdine, a quite successful omelette of cepes, and a “pied de porc” pane in a vinaigrette. 2002 Domaine Metairie-Bergerac was surprisingly balanced and well made. The restaurant, LA RAPIERE, is not even featured in the Michelin guide, but it deserves to be mentioned.

The same night we made a trip to a farmhouse in Salignac-Evignac with some expectations. Unfortunately, the restaurant LA MEYNARDIE did not deliver. The rouget tasted iodized, and the pigeon in the crust had clearly been precooked and re-heated (despite assurances in the menu to the contrary). The grilled limousine filet was not on par with the previous day’s version. On the other hand, the hazelnut soufflé was memorable, and 2000 Clos Triquedena—Prine Probus was a sturdy, well structured wine which made an impression. It was a good buy in a restaurant for 59 Euro. This restaurant needed better main courses.

We then basically skipped lunch the next day and headed to PONT DE L’OUYSSE in LACAVE for dinner. My expectations were modest, and I was wrong. The chef, Monsieur Chambon, is truly passionate about ingredients, and his cooking is both rustic and refined. Spicing was optimum, the use of herbs clever, vegetables crunchy-fresh, combinations well thought out, and the cooking time was precise. In short, this was a memorable restaurant.

We started with a “fricassee of ecrevisses”, one of my favorite kinds of shellfish. They were almost sweet, plump, and juicy, and they were perfumed with a clever tomato-herbs-garlic sauce. The chef is clearly a very accomplished saucier.

The next dish was equally memorable: “queues de langoustines roties, pomme de terre charlotte ecrasee a la fourchette, emince de truffe melano, jus de deglacage truffe”. Granted that even the best preserved truffles leave a lot to be desired, it was the quality of the potatoes that stole the show. This dish reminded me of the famous “turbot with potatoes and truffle” at LEDOYEN, and it was as zesty. Ingredients compliment and bring out the best in one another.

We finished with a course for two: “foie gras bonne maman”. After eating this dish I came to think that I would no longer order fresh foie gras in any restaurant unless they cook the whole liver and cut it into pieces after cooking it. Slowly cooked, this was the best foie gras dish in recent memory. It was rich, but not overly cloying, decadent, but not greasy.

We were then offered the famous Rocamadour cheese of the region, but I was not expecting it to be that good. Partially because it was made by the brother of Monsieur Chambon for the restaurant, it was of impeccable quality. But it was also so good because it was combined with fresh “mascarpone” and the synergy worked.

The chocolate soufflé was as good as it gets.

The 2003 Mont-Redon Chateauneuf white was surprisingly viscous and “ample”, and it was a good match with the first two dishes.

The next morning, a Monday, on the way to ARCACHON where there was the conference I would attend, we make a stop at a Michelin one star restaurant near Brantome, called MOULIN DU ROC. The dining hall was small and intimate. The cooking was traditional and had ups and downs, but mostly ups. The cauliflower soup was like what one may have found in a private house that cares about cooking, but the cepe tart was mushy and did not quite taste as it was supposed to taste. On the other hand, a “chausson” filled with preserved truffles and foie gras was surprisingly good, and it was clearly baked after the order. The chef’s fettucine featuring the same truffles was also properly al dente.

One of the two main courses was also memorable: “pigeonneau” or baby pigeon with vegetables from the garden. The quality of the pigeon and the marriage with the vegetables made me wish that my gastroville partner Mikael were here as he is so determined not to eat low quality pigeon that he is now taking his own across the border when he goes to Italy! Well, at least in Moulin du Roc, he does not need to worry.

We also had an order of lamb, but it is quite a disappointment after pigeon. Apparently they can not get Quercy lamb from the Lot Valley which I had had at La Belle Etoile and liked.

On the other hand, the desserts were old fashioned and very good, including good fruit tarts and a perfect bitter chocolate tart that reminds me of old JAMIN-ROBUCHON.

The best part though is to sit in the garden for coffee and bas-armagnac and then stroll in the garden which is like what one envisions heaven to be.

The wine, 2000 Chateau Tiregand—Cuvee Speciale (Pecharmant) was still tight, but as it started to open up, displayed mineral depth. It was an intriguing wine that should have been left in the cellar for a few more years.

ARCACHON is a good place for oysters, and we toke full advantage of it. To the best of my knowledge there is no memorable restaurant there, so we made two trips outside: one, on October 9, to HOSTELLERIE PLAISANCE in SAINT EMILION, and the other, on October 10, which happens to be my birthday, to CHEZ RUFFET in JURANCON.

I AM SURE that Michelin will award a second star to Hostellerie Plaisance and not to Pont de l’Ouysse because the place is much more in line with the new creed at Michelin which emphasizes molecular biology and showmanship in plating at the expense of ingredient quality and thoroughness.

This is not to say that Plaisance is not a good place. The chef Etchebest is gifted and has some good concepts even though he still seems not to have found his true style and is very much under the influence of Thierry Marx in Pauillac in CORDEILLAN BAGES.

The main problem with Etchebest is that he cannot choose between his good ideas, and he wants to do too much. Take his “ormeau poelee au soja, noodles aux algues, flan de bonite, brouillade d’oursin, mouillette caviar d’Aquitane”. Different elements in the dish sat awry with one another; they don’t communicate and complement one another. I liked the razor clams which sat atop cucumber and herbs for textural and savory contrast. I actually liked all elements SEPARATELY, but the problem is that taken all together the dish was fussy and lacked clarity.

The same theme of “sophisticated fussyness” carried throughout the other courses. The chef has also a tendency to experiment with some spices or oils, such as ginger or soja or coriander which are not too easy to translate into successful concoctions in Western cooking. But clearly, especially thanks to food critics and GUIDE MICHELIN, “fusion” is the name of the game now at the upper echelons, especially for new restaurants. So I have nothing against the Basque Etchebest playing with his own set of neutral gelatins to add intensity of flavor to a cepe puree (which had an artificial aftertaste because of the injection) or to concoct red-yellow-purple gelatin sticks flavored by pepper essences (with a bitter aftertaste). I just don’t see the point. I especially think of this when the same chef can grill a perfect lobe of veal sweetbread on a lemongrass skewer and tops it with shaved raw “tart” apples. Here the complementariness of tastes is so perfect and the main ingredient is so flavorful that one wonders why Etchebest is not doing less complicated but more focused dishes.

The cheese tray was quite above average at Hostellerie de Plaisance, and desserts were a strong point, especially the “deconstructed” tarte tatin. I think the classical desserts lended themselves more easily to experimentation and improvement than classical regional dishes.

The wine list was overpriced and very weak on non-Bordeaux wines. We had 2005 Cuilleron “les Chaillets” Condrieu—a tad better than 2004, but I prefer 2003, and a glass of 2001 Saint Emilion Les Gaffelieres to match the lamb.

On my birthday we had lunch in Jurancon at CHEZ RUFFET. I have already reviewed it for the Turkish newspaper Milliyet, and I hope to write a separate review for Gastroville.

The following day we returned to Dordogne and stayed for one night at Pont de l’Ouysse. The meal was again excellent, except for one dish. The failed dish was a “risotto de homard au curry, lait de coco et ananas”. It was more like the CHINOIS dish in Los Angeles (but less successful), and I was perplexed. It turned out that the son of Monsieur Daniel Chambon, who had returned from Far East with a charming (and very pregnant) Asian wife, had prepared the dish. I hope he chooses to stick to his home cooking.

The rest of the meal was again memorable. We repeated the “fricassee d’ecrevisses”. The “Homard bleu vivement sauté, artichauts poivrades. Ecume de jus de tomate et saffron de Quercy” showed that the chef can prepare a very successful lobster dish, and he is a great saucier. He concocts very balanced and intense sauces, neither under nor over-reduced. The quality of the lobster and artichokes were tops, and the tomato added just the right touch of acidity.

We finished with a specialty of the house, a rustic dish elevated to superlative standards: “daube de pied de porc truffee, crème de pomme de terre”. The potato puree was to die for, the slow cooked pork feet retains just the right amount of gelatinous texture, and the skin was crisp.

We washed all of this down with a (49 Euro) 2005 Lafon Macon-Milly Lamarime which had more depth than Kistler or Marcassin Chardonnays which sell for several hundred dollars in the States and garner ridiculous scores from American wine writers like Robert Parker and the Wine Spectator.

We then tried a very interesting Cahors upon the advice of Monsieur Chambon’s younger son who is also the sommelier: 2005 Domaine le Clos d’un Jour: Un Jour sur terre.

I found this wine to be very interesting. It was aged in terra cotta amphora pottery for eight months, and it had an elegant texture, noteworthy balance, and some intriguing depth. This wine was be an ideal match with perigourdine sauce and truffles. I tried to purchase a bottle at the property, but they did not have any. The owners are Veronique et Stephane Azemar: Ph: 05 65 36 56 01. I am suspicious about ageability, but if a wine importer learns about it from Gastroville and brings this wine to the States, please let me (Vedat Milor) know.

It is so relaxing to sip some vielle prune, and then sleep upstairs at this property, in one of their tastely decorated rooms. They also have a beautiful garden where the next morning we relaxed and sipped our coffee. (I guess nobody will be hungry for breakfast!)

We sure did not have breakfast and shared a panini for lunch. Then, we went to see the beautiful town of Cahors, which is an ideal town for a long stroll.

Near Cahors we dined at LE GINDREAU. Chef Pelissou, with his long moustache, looks like a character from Dumas pere, and Madame Pelissoou is a gracious host.

The cepes were coming into season, and chef Pelissou prepared a zesty combination of veloute and fricassee of cepes. His homemade foie gras terrine was silky and was served with nice fruit chutneys and mesclun salad. But one should go there to savor the very best example of Quercy Lamb. (His version is above the level designated as label rouge.) We ordered the “demi-selle d’agneau fermier de Quercy cuite a l’os. Jus d’ail en chemise (pour 2 personnes). This was about three months old lamb, perfectly tender and flavorful, and served with a side dish of white tarbais beans and lamb feet.

Upon recommendation we ordered the Souffle dessert: Alliance de la Truffe et du Marasquin (wild cherry eau de vie). I had qualms about it as I don’t like eggy soufflés, but one should taste this one to believe how light and airy it can get.

The tuxedoed and bearded hefty gentleman helping in the preparation of the soufflé is a great sommelier. We had a very informative conversation, and I really appreciated the fact that he steered me towards a 98 Cahors, Chateau Lamartine Cuvee Particuliere, which was a good match with the lamb. The wine was at the optimum point for drinkability; it was very elegant (apparently 10% Merlot was added to the customary Malbec), had a perfumed nose; and it had an earthy backbone and exotic spicy finish. Maybe Cahors wines have in general a good price/quality ratio. (This one was 46 Euro.)

We were offered some Maury-Perpignan (I thought it was Banyuls—but it too was all Grenache), and a not bad 2004 Moelleux du Clos Triguedena (Chenin and Semillon) to finish. This was a nice gesture.

Our last day, upon a friend’s recommendation who writes as Marcus in some forums, we headed to the eery town of Tremolat where some young girls were butchered by the local boucher. Across the schoolyard where the young schoolmistress (Stephane Audran, the real life wife of the great film maker Claude Chabrol) has met several times and developed an affection for the disturbed but handsome and intelligent “butcher” lies a great bistro: BISTROT D’EN COTE.

When I say bistro, I mean it. This is not a place to eat sous vided salmon slices infused with ginger and soja and served with agar-agar taglietelle in squid ink. It is indeed an old fashioned bistro where the only concession to tourists (especially British) is to de-shell the escargots and serve them is a special platter. Besides, you can have perfectly coarse pates, very good ox-tail with celery root, and the best andouillette in recent memory (consistiting of veal tripe, veal cheek and pork cheek) served with thick potato fries cooked in duck fat.

The one dessert we shared, “ baba au rhum” was as tasty as the famous one in Ducasse, but not as elaborately presented.

It was also interesting that the wine list contained a fine Mercurey red 2005 from Juillot, which was indeed cheap and juicy.

RANKINGS: (Specialty restaurants or bistros are ranked in the range from 1 to 5 stars, and the rest are ranked according to the Gastroville scale.)

Bistrot d’en Cote: 4 stars
La Belle Etoile: 14/20
La Meynardie: 10/20
Moulin du Roc: 15/20
Hostellerie de Plaisance: 15/20
Le Gindreau: 16/20
Pont de L’Ouysse: 17.5/20

One wouldn’t have been far off but only if all ended there. It doesn’t. The essential creative act in Gagnaire’s case undoubtedly operates at a higher level. It is almost palpable how he is guided by intuitions. Gagnaire’s decisions are not necessarily rational but deeply personal. They are forceful but contained. Impulsive but focused. Passionate yet contemplative, even introverted at times. Vulnerable.

When such artistic qualities are matched with a kitchen of extraordinary precision and techniques of great refinement the results are brilliant even if they are not always absolutely perfect.

A key to success with such poetic license is the ability to sense when it is time to stop experimenting, what needs to be cast off, what must be retained, when to destruct any impure growth and how to rebuild from scraps chasing an obscure ideal. Gagnaire is remarkably incisive in such manipulation of abstract sprit into discernable harmony.

Off the record, at these levels of virtuosity it is not very far fetched to expect a couple of miraculous favors to spring into existence out of thin air either.

There are of course times when most of the stars align and others when disappointments may occur. Luckily for us, our dinner of June 14th, 2007 registered with the former. I believe we also helped it to some extent by passing over the tasting menu and choosing à la carte instead.

I find leaning for this option very natural, quite irresistible:

Once the suffocating, cavernous entrance of the restaurant, that reminds one of the anguish of rites of passage, is left behind, you are taken in this sensual and slightly jazzy, softly lit dining room.

The entire space is run flawlessly, thanks to a courteous, good-humored and superlative service that won’t loose its stamina the entire evening. That mastery and coherence is manifest at once.

You are also instantaneously surrounded by an aura that suggests intensity. What better way to experience its depth than by indulging in the slower pace and increased complexity the à la carte alternative promises?

This option has the added benefit of showcasing the corrigée by Gagnaire version of the 19th century classical Service à la Française where multiple less prominent dishes are served simultaneously around a centerpiece. (Gagnaire follows this method more closely at the “Premier Service” and tends to migrate next towards the Service à la Russe, before reverting back to a more egalitarian variant of the à la Française approach at the “Troisième Service” with the Grand Dessert).

Despite one small disaster, one irritating gaffe and one unexplainable lapse, our selection will prove rewarding. We will assist, during this dinner, to a display of a very mature cuisine delivering breathtaking moments crowned with so noble a demonstration of restraint.

Here it begins. On the teaser plate of welcome, the first bite of the evening reveals itself as the astonishing harbinger of such wealth: An unforgettable and amazingly perfect Pomme Dauphine!

Amuses-Bouche:

Exactly that.

A playful act of awakening for isolated sense of oral touch where similar forms are separated from each other with varying degrees of textural likeness. They start standing far away from each other and then get closer and closer.

A whole-wheat spaghettini (?), used as a skewer, and some tender but amorphous pasta-paste is where the distance between the textures is at its extreme. (The “skewer” is not to be eaten but I went ahead and crunched a small bite for the fun of it once I noticed what game I was participating in).

The separation between the textural levels shrinks considerably by the next variation on the theme but it still remains unmistakably distinct: Two tuiles, one of watercress base and the other of light Parmesan. The first one is incredibly thin. It has a most pleasant and smooth texture that doesn’t feel grainier than a fresh petal of rose on the tongue. So feminine. In contrast to its companion, the Parmesan tuile, which would be considered exceedingly delicate in almost any other context, is not perceived that way here. It is felt as being much more rugged in the mouth, much coarser against the teeth. Definitely masculine.

Then a series of small marbles, all the same size and very look alike, except that ones are brown and the others darker brown, ones are matte the others shinier, awaiting their turn. The ones that looked like caramelized hazelnuts are crunchy and brittle; the others that turn out to be made of a pâte sablée are naturally crumbly and friable. The distance is diminishing.

At the end of the spectrum, the amplitude of the texture wave is really flattened. One of the actors in this final phase is a nibble of gently roasted (or poached) and peeled sweet red pepper. It is soft and silky yet somewhat fleshy. The lardo di Collonata that wraps it around tightly is a tiny step closer to a buttery consistence, slightly more slippery and marginally more apt to fade away.

The flavor aspect in all this is quite subdued, even suppressed, due to a tight control of odors. Only small-scale bursts are allowed via the Parmesan, caramel and lardo di Collonata.

Champagne Blanc de Blanc de Lamotte is appropriate with such musings.

Hors d’Oeuvres:

With this set of small servings, the aromatic dimension emerges. Using a primitive palette of scents, a wide geography from Europe to Far East is brushed over.

An unsweetened, entremet-like, milky gelée is juxtaposed to sweet potato purée. Together, they act as a neutral serving platform for two fresh almonds erupting with flavor.

A light confit of young, macerated onion is fragrant with South Asian spices and served with a thin slice of rather crisp Japanese turnip.

Then a truly delicious dish: Minuscule mussels with their delicate iodine flavor are placed on a titillating red beet vinaigrette and associated with smoked duck that adds a very subtle aroma.

These smallest and most tender mussels are so tasty it is devastating.

I feel uneasy as if I was committing an immoral act. This feeling is similar to what one goes through eating the flavor-packed teeny girolles Jean Francois Piège offers early summer with his “Casse-croûte de homard bleu à l’amarante et au citron confit”. Or yet, it is akin to what one endures when tasting angulas for the fist time at a hidden gem on a lost, side street in Madrid.

A side note: Knowing that Gagnaire, who is revered at l’Astrance, cites Pascal Barbot first among the best younger generation chefs in France, one may wonder if there wouldn’t be a clin d’oeil in this dish to the Barbot preparation that combines oysters, beet mousse and oxtail.

Next to this scene-stealer sit some hummus alongside a watermelon sorbet with a layover perfume of tarragon. As the red color brightens from the previous dish to this one, the fruity aspect concealed in vinaigrette becomes obvious in the sorbet that acts both as a palate cleanser, and as an attenuating agent for the hummus. Otherwise, not only the hummus/tarragon combination wouldn’t have had any chance of being appreciated, but also the strong sensation created by the mussels would have been irreparably offended.

Tarragon is the fragrance link between this dish and the seaweed consommée poured over, and enhanced with, other herbs. The flavors are sweetened at two different layers: by anise in a more abstract, conceptual manner and by a brunoise of peaches and apples at a rather immediate sensory level.

With regards to the links and references, a secondary pattern in this presentation is the gradual softening of the bite from the almonds, to the turnip, the onion, the mussels, the hummus, the sorbet and the consommée. This progression creates a mental bridge to the amuses-bouche.

A last remark about the suggested order of the tasting that places the consommée at the end: Of course, by the time we get there it is not warm enough to be enjoyed properly. But it is significant to observe that the consommée makes its intense and well-balanced aromatic impact on the table all along the tasting in diminuendo. I would consider this not only an acceptable compromise, but also an interesting idea.

Citrons de Saison – Huile d’Olive d’Origine – Miel d’Arbousier:

Our first course is labeled by this wonderfully dreamy title that refers to the essential seasoning elements common to the principle lobster plate as well as the various crab dishes and condiments that surround it.

Lemons are from Menton and Corsica. Olive oils are hailing from a larger variety of origins. They are Catalan, Ligurian, Provençal, Tuscan, Puglian...

The centerpiece of this course is a cold preparation of macerated blue lobster salad, mixed with thin slices of artichoke and cauliflower. They are also laced with slivers of crêpe de Sarazin. The generous plate, with young strands of chive scattered over, comes to life glistening as the delectable Dauro de l’Emporda olive oil is drizzled over at the table.

The lobster is firm but not rubbery. It yields a very satisfactory bite. The balance and interplay between the lobster, the vegetables and the starch is beyond belief. The seasoning has a tremendous impact in this alchemy:

Dauro de l’Emporda is a complex, multi-dimensional oil that can greatly enhance vegetables and this is exactly what happens, especially with the artichokes. It also has an aspect that reminds of the crust of a rustic farm-bread. That dimension of the oil is in a grounding accord with the crêpe. One additional characteristic of this oil is its elegant bitter finish that lingers on the palate quite a moment. This bitter note, which is much more subtle, for instance, than that of the well-known Tuscan variety, relates to the analogous characteristic of the Miel d’Arbousier, the much prized opaque honey of strawberry tree blossoms from the Mediterranean.

That honey, in turn, is what marries the oil to the Menton lemon. These lemons are another produce France is proud of. They are very fragrant and their acidity is softer, their tartness milder, but not to the extent that they almost turn into a different species as would be the case with hybrids such as Meyer lemons.

Permeated with tender juices of these lemons, further softened and enhanced with additional depth by the honey, the artichoke and cauliflower slices become malleable, however they keep their vivacious snap. Joy upon joy.

Our bottle of Les Chaillées de l’Enfer 2004 from George Vernay is both melodiously adorable on its own and in consonance with the multiple nuances of the lobster salad. It also works more than acceptably with the smaller dishes scattered around the main plate:

A thin pressée of tourteau has enough staying power as to be able to handle an “unsweet” crème chibouste, a light olive oil, a good amount of powdered green curry and chives. Not revelatory, but likeable.

A crab bisque, full of flavor and poise, is served with a lemon puree beautifully augmented by bergamot. That would be the only warm dish in this service.

A spiced olive oil is offered as a condiment and enjoyable as a dip for the bread every now and then.

On the other hand, the prettiest of the secondary dishes hides a small disaster behind the surface. The “vegetal basket for spider crab” doesn’t belong to a table of such sophistication:

The basket is made of seaweed. A kind that is similar to those “knots” sold in Asian markets. It is so tasteless I suspect the culprit may be a Hervé This exercise gone awry. They tell me it is not.

The treatment of spider crab is very sloppy. Watery and insipid, the meat is further spoiled by the excess of a lemon cream at the bottom of the basket.

During the service it is mentioned that the olive oil in it was from Liguria. A good, small production Ligurian olive oil is one of the best tasting experiences one can have in life. It works especially well with delicate seafood such as spider crabs. This subtle, fragrant oil is layered with complexity even though it comes only from a single variety of olives. It is also an excellent companion to lemon. But here, it is utterly unrecognizable.

Fortunately there is plenty of the delicious wine, bread and oil dip left to erase all this and some more lobster salad to concentrate back on pleasure. Not only that, but there is also an additional delight at the end of the course:

Placed right at the top of the main plate is half a lemon “roasted” in papillote yielding an unadulterated result. It is then frosted and served with some blood orange sorbet and a big dollop of solidified olive oil. Even though the lemon stays very cold until we get to it, it is hard to tell what was holding the olive oil that tight, all that time. It melts as soon as it is inside the mouth. Whatever stabilizer there might be in it, it is very imperceptible. The sweet lemon itself has a thrilling density both in the skin and in the core. I eat it all. I am the only one who shows this barbaric manner at the table. Although I suffer the nervous gaze of my wife and daughter while doing it, I think this is worth the humiliation.

Second Course:

A dazzling and opulent preparation for the turbot.

As a large, luminous tray of filets, enshrouded with big bay leaves on their branches, solemnly carried from the kitchen to the service table like crown jewels, a flamboyant plate is placed before each of us.

These are covered by the thinnest, elongated slices of golden crisp potatoes that let four equally fragile, crisped green strands of spring onions to be seen through. Enticing aromas escaping from beneath are hinting to a veiled treasure under the protection of this commanding shield reminiscent of a heraldic sun.

Lofty claims indeed! How will the dish measure up to them?

There is a blemish, thought, to all this exquisite pageantry. One of filets is a less appealing, disproportionately wider and flatter cut. An unfortunate irritation for the table, this is unbecoming and sadly diminishing.

I should also mention rather quickly, then forget, the side dish on the right of the plate: Next to a tasty and elegantly presented ice cream of leek white is an unpleasant, green flan of leek and black truffles. It looks like cafeteria food, lacks any gustatory interest and is full of tasteless specks of truffle, left over from the last season and kept sous-vide since. It is unexplainable how someone like Gagnaire who is endowed with so rich a portfolio can have such a lapse. (Maybe this is a punishment for me because I am taking pictures, an act which I find offensive myself).

On the left of the plate is a small potato from the Channel island of Guernesay in its skin, oven baked and stuffed with a fondant of leeks and topped with a pearl colored leek foam. This will be a very sober and satisfying earthy companion to the main dish.

Except that it is abandoned and you may not hark; it is betrayed and you may not know.

How handsomely leeks can be paired with truffles is well proven. I am thinking of another French Master and his luminous “poireaux en demi deuil” fired up by a superlative salt. We are not witnessing an equipollent feat in the flan (which I should, I said, quickly forget). Yet there was an inspiring proposal:

Leeks are cocooned in a potato, on one side, and enveloping earthy par excellence truffles, on the other. An airy, volatile foam is set against the dense, stable form its essence takes in the ice cream. Realities warped by an unseen, playful hand. Not to be this time.

What I called sober is, in truth, forsaken.

The turbot is cooked on the bone before the fillet is lifted to a bed of bay leaves to be finished under the salamander resulting in admirable aromas and a well-measured caramelisation. It is gently set over the potatoes that bend under the weight without surrendering their integrity.

Then, a magnificent beurre blanc sauce is spooned over the fillet. The saucière is left on the table in a decadent, old-fashioned, nostalgic gesture that calls for a sympathetic pause.

The hidden treasure under the potatoes is a matelote of baby cuttlefish and baby calamari that are covered by an unctuous sauce rivaling the creamy beurre blanc on top. It is hard to tell which is which, but possibly the bodies are from the calamari because they are so soft, and, heads and tentacles from the cuttlefish because they are rather compact.

And yes, there is not a trace of toughness in the body pieces. Beyond this, very critically, they convey a delicious gelatinous sensation also highlighted by their sauce. This experience comes so close to sucking the bones of a fatty turbot that it is exhilarating. Furthermore now, by some magic, those imaginary bones soften all of a sudden and become edible in their entirety.

The gentle crunch from the heads and tentacles, and their more apparent iodine flavor are in heavenly contrast with tender and nuttier body morsels.

There is more! It is likelier than not, this turbot wasn’t one of the Black Sea species with their distinctive buttons on the skin which are a bliss to slide your teeth over, almost crack but not quite, and suck. Gagnaire most probably knows what this is about as the feeling channeled through the crunch of the head and tentacles against the teeth and the tongue is so evocative of those buttons. Moreover, ravishingly and by some enchantment, they can be eaten completely. (Or was this an imaginary favor pulled out of thin air?).

Under the absolute potentate of a Grand Chef, this dish, in which nothing is left untransformed, uncontrolled, untamed, disobedient or in excess, is a masterpiece.

So glad we have a wine that doesn’t crush, crumble and burn when challenged with such a powerful presence: Clos de Mon Plaisir – Tesson 2002 from Guy Roulot.

Cheese:

Warm cheese course is a croque-monsieur of San Daniel and some excellent Gruyère. It is sprinkled with peeled fresh peas and févettes and accompanied by a side dish of apple dressed with half a lobe of walnut. It is served with a shot glass of walnut scented Marvin. Glorious.

Charming to have these fromages cuisinés on the menu. Obviously Gagnaire cannot endure the idea of serving the cheese the way it is delivered by the affineur. You wonder how he can bear offering the wine the way it comes out of the bottle.

Well, you do not wonder that long: a most marvelous gelée of Marvin is concealed at the bottom of the glass but it was so pristine you didn’t notice it until that moment. Ecstatic.

Desert:

There is not much controversy around Gagnaire’s lavish Grand Dessert. They are refreshingly fruity, including when it is about cucumbers in a delicious mojito! Graceful with chocolate, caramel and pralinée, very moderate on the use of sugar, exuberantly presented in profusion all at once, they almost always please the patrons. Our experience is no exception.

And The Chef:

Gagnaire appears on the service way once in a while during the evening and glances over and across with inquiring eyes.

Later he comes out to tour the dining room. He greets every table scrupulously yet non-intrusively. Far from donning an attitude thirsty of accolades he moves slowly in his whites, somewhat tired. With a pensive smile. Almost melancholic.

Heartbreaking

(my daughter thought).

I knew about a Roellinger dish where he used pineapple and grapefruit for a turbot. While not having tasted it I had quite a strong mental reservation against this association.

When I saw what I assumed to be a variation on this dish on the menu I was intrigued. Roellinger was insisting on the theme with an obvious show of confidence but had toned down, I thought, the sweetness by using kumquat this time. Bitter aspect of this fruit being much more complex than grapefruits & its aromas less overbearing than the tropical pineapple, I was rather attracted.

On the other hand, the season and the place had dictated for us a couple of dishes we absolutely wanted to try. Young European spider crabs (moussettes), local lobster and pré-salé lamb fed at the neighboring salt marshes must be at or near their peak flavor in this beautiful part of Brittany in June.

But things have changed when we learned that Olivier Roellinger was not serving pré-salé lamb. Not because this was not the height of season but they had trouble assuring a steady, high quality supply. Instead they were proposing Aubrac lamb. There is of course nothing wrong with the fine Aubrac lamb but it didn’t take us long to decide on Turbot instead.

But first a few words on the ambiance:

This is a place where an edge a little rough or an articulation a little clunky or a flow a little bit too much in staccato are not disturbing because they are permeated with a certain justified pride and joyful sincerity.

You may be somewhat startled but don’t really mind much to see a kitchen staff nonchalantly kicking something out of his way while traversing the picturesque garden with a basket of seafood in his hands, in full view of the patrons.

Despite the initial feeling of a well established, refined but effortlessly run seaside cottage, there is a strictly defined and at times too visible hierarchy and protocol in the dining room. A glimpse: My wine glass has been empty for about minute. The Chief of Rank on our side of the restaurant notices it and, while we are looking away, touches so slightly the napkin that covers the wine chiller on the service table behind us, before walking away towards the next table. Upon this signal a Commis Waiter promptly traverses our dining room, almost in diagonal, and disappears into the adjacent one. Some 30 seconds after the magic napkin touch, the Sommelier (not his Second who has been serving us wine) appears pouring our carafe. Half way into it, he stops to ask ”but maybe we wanted to keep some more for the turbot” with such polished civility that I wholeheartedly smile and say ”but of course!”

Far from being disturbed by such glitches, you only think you are well taken care of when someone is concerned that you may feel warm and proposes and proceeds, not without some difficulty, to open a floor to ceiling window for you.

The attendant to the cheese trolley displays the same enthusiasm and respect in answering fairly technical questions about her cheeses at one table as when replying to uninitiated, even out of place questions which can easily earn one the disdain of the staff at other highly starred establishments. Both tables are happy and, more importantly, both tables know the other has been treated extremely well.

Amuses-Bouche:

The meal starts rather low-key with a couple of unpromising amuses-bouche (garlic tortellini, lightly smoked mackerel, and some tomato-turnip chutney). This is followed by a trio of much more interesting and mostly refined seaside offering. If one makes abstraction of the little morsel of bar completely overwhelmed by black sesame and pineapple (which rings all sorts of unpleasant alarm bells about the turbot to come), the bigorneaux in a very loose jelly of parsley-jus and little shrimps with Espelette peppers, fennels and mint are tantalizing. Homemade seaweed bread is equally delicious with Bordier butter.

Spider Crab & Avocado:

Moussettes are so fresh and tasty their minimal treatment is absolutely praiseworthy. The vinaigrette sauce thickened by crab roe is not all that smooth in texture or complicated in preparation but it is not artificially elegant either. It is very seducing with its immediacy, sincerity and the humble role it plays in elevating and underlying the delicacy of the moussettes. Remember “little rough but permeated with pride and joy”? This sauce is like the embodiment of the atmosphere around us.

The cumin scented avocado puree also works quite well with the rest. The only distraction is the tomato chutney with its oniony taste. Of course it is an obvious visual link to the roe placed under the miniscule watercress leaves on top of the moussette cylinders, but otherwise dissonant with respect to the dish.

Lobster:

The lobster comes in two services. First the tail, sitting atop a lightly emulsified cocoa-Xeres sauce brought together with natural sweet juices of the lobster, is served with a julienne of vegetables, a spring onion and a delicious white asparagus.

The sauce is simply perfect and harmonious. The cocoa is concealed at first. Its taste is distant in the sauce, its aroma seas away. Obviously not overpowering, it forces one to pay closer attention, to concentrate more, to listen more carefully. Being the paranoiac that I am, I even doubt if I really taste it or if I just imagine it. So I take just a tiny touch of cocoa powder from the border of the plate with the tip of my fork, taste, wait 10 seconds or so, clear my palate with a small amount of water and taste the sauce again. There! I never dare to relinquish it after that. It is sublime. So much so that a small bowl of cloves that was sitting at more than an arms length on the table is an annoyance. I push it farther to the edge.

The beguiling aromas of an extraordinary Hermitage Blanc 1999 from JL Chave, selected from a wine list that is of an improbable generosity for an establishment of this stature, makes it impossible not to break the smooth movement of the glass towards your lips and freeze a while before each sip. It is a wonderful match with this lobster dish.

It will not work as splendidly with the turbot later. But since this exceptional wine has an exuberant life of its own, we will try to introduce some distance between the two so that we can keep savoring it though not in symbiosis with the turbot.

I find the tail just so slightly cottony. Not in a way that would result from an extended period of stress or due to lesser quality lobster but rather because of being a tad overcooked.

I recognize I was being too picky but probably because the sauce was so refined and I am forever biased towards minimal heat for a lobster served with a delicate sauce, since I learned what a treat that can turn into in the right hands at the delightful Pont de Brent of Gerard Rabaey.

The definitely no fuss Maitre d’Hotel, who was one of the most pleasantly and elegantly direct ones I have ever met, listens with genuine concern to my regret that we didn’t go for a larger lobster than this one, little under 700 gr. so as to allow extra tolerance for inaccuracies in cooking time. He rightfully suggests that it should be up to the kitchen to worry about getting it right and that he would convey the message.

Just as soon as he leaves the second lobster service arrives. The grilled head covered with lobster roe and double cream was served with a wedge of lime, and, the claws presented in a light but somewhat spiced up armoricain sauce in a ramequin with a single young Malouine potato.

(Potatoes: another mystery of life and weakness of many! Within a period of 10 days we have tasted spring’s wonderful potatoes from St Malo County, Channel Island of Guernesey, and Southwestern island of Noirmoutier from the kitchens of three of the most respectable chefs of France. I find there is no comparison to the ones Bernard Pacaud prepares in cooking juices of lobster. The result almost outshines the lobster they accompany as was the case the evening of June 16, 2007 where the Spring Menu featured a significant milestone for l’Ambroisie: The name of Mathieu Pacaud printed, for the first time, next to his father’s.

I can’t help mentioning what an evening that was! Our senses were wide open all along. Still, it was only at the end that it hit me how what we have been through was so deeply exceptional, even when judged by the standards of this unique House. Our dinner at L’Ambroisie that evening was a stupendous river. We have been moved from summit to summit at each dish, but only at the end, while enjoying my delicious eau-de-vie de prune, that I realized how the simple, light and airy appetizer we were offered to start our dinner, the pea velouté specially made for us with mustard crème fraîche on top and a tiny young flower tip of thyme was gingerly acting as the unassuming but precious source of that awesome river. How considerate of them, how grateful I am.)

Enough with the distraction I guess, so back to the dish:

What a deception. The head had suffered the heat so much that the sauce that covered it was almost burnt at spots and the roe in it hopelessly shriveled and stiffened. It was, and still is, unimaginable for me that Olivier Roellinger or anyone familiar with his cuisine saw and let these plates leave his kitchen. (So much for all my anticipations heightened by a pair of female lobsters grilled to effortless perfection by wood-fire the night before at le Coquillage, the marine bistro of the Maisons de Bricourt at le Chateau Richeux)

Turbot:

Ode to Turbot. This dish goes beyond what we would often call “respect for the ingredients”. The turbot is not treated as a mere main ingredient. It is rather worshiped. Presented with burnt offerings. It is almost alive (a strategically placed crisp green leaf makes it seem more so), and mighty and wild and bewildering.

It grows in your plate. It grows, for days and weeks, in your imagination, challenging your mind. The Chef is not reining over this creation. He is rather riding a deep undercurrent of the ocean along with it. Never have I tasted a dish that captured the turbot’s primal nature so majestically.

It was cooked by a heat source from top only. This cooking approach possibly yields even more satisfactory results with a larger turbot. But it is unconceivable that it would work with much smaller ones, not to mention with a turbotin.

This method and excellent precision applied to it gave the flesh layer upon layer of gradual of textures. That, in addition to leading to a luscious tasting experience, naturally contributes to the overall feeling that an extraordinary phenomenon is taking place.

Seeds of sesame, flax, and poppy create a rough, dark gray crust on top of this good size filet and counter-filet cut into the bone, and, nearly call out the urge to forget all and to bite into it in a manner humans are not known to do. Provocative. Endangering.

Even the shades of pale green, bright orange and yellow on the plate accentuates the emulation of a life altering adventure with a fervent strength and a secret language.

As anyone who has ever experienced a true encounter with Sea would believe; Anyone who has ever come close to her in a manner impossible to fathom by staying at her fringes would know (No matter where and how those fringes are “enjoyed”: be it at the careless idyllic beaches of her South or by observing the powerful, deafening waves crushing upon the rugged coastline of her Brittany during a winter storm, they are no match to her true self); She can at times be anything one could have never seen and would never forget.

And yes there was curcuma and kumquat confit and even pineapple! And lemon syrup and young zucchini and soybean sprouts. And the sauce was too sour and it was too sweet and it was in a way I would have never approved of before. And this and that and so what is it that matters? This is a dish I wish I could go back to, over and over and over.

Cheese:

A perfect Rocamadour, some good Epoisses and St Nectaire Fermier, along with average Brin d’Amour and Stilton made up the cheese plate. Each cheese was paired with a balancing agent: two different kinds of chutneys, a fig spread, “vinaigre celtique” (an apple based spiced and concentrated vinegar), Breton crème-double. Pleasant.

Desert:

“After the rain: Rhubarb and Gooseberries” is a loose translation for this poetically named cheerful desert that let the natural acidity and simple flavor of both fruits burst with an unfeigned audacity that could only be traced to one’s childhood. Reinforcing that tender nostalgia was the Maingau: an all white, nicely chilled, thick but slightly foamy preparation based on sweet cream and fromage blanc with origins deep in local traditions.

A spiced, soft pâte de fruit of rhubarb, a couple of wafer tin dried rhubarb sandwiches with rhubarb confit holding a single berry inside, and a couple of citronella leaves were the only “adult” touches allowed.

At the end:

At the end of a meal you may be offered a cool cream touched by avocado and served with lime along with a glass of grog. The warm grog is a mix of apple cider, rum, spices and exotic fruits. My recommendation would be to not touch it much unless you are so disappointed with the whole experience that you need to burry it all at once, thanks to a spice overload.

Following this, you may be tempted to a selection of coffees. Even if it is Ethiopian and its description seems to have interesting ties with the flavors you have been through during your lunch, you might be apprehensive of the sheer view of a huge French coffee press on your table (“cafetière à piston“ for a better emphasis) alongside an esthetically pleasing presentation of not so interesting mignardises consisting of guimauves, raspberry, citron and chocolate/caramel cubes.

This ending that left us in an uncomfortable state of suspension was not befitting the stirring journey we have had despite an unfortunate accident on the way.

I have over the years been rather dismissive of the gastronomic restaurants of inland Tuscany. I have been to almost every Michelin starred restaurant in that area and I cannot say I have had a particularly interesting meal anywhere. Meals have been tainted by average ingredients prepared with an execution level that leaves a lot left to wish for. The wine lists of these restaurants are almost always a treat to browse with their vast selections of wines often priced just above retail prices or below for older vintages stored by each respective restaurant.

When commenting on the state of affairs in Tuscany I have often been told with withhold any final judgment before visiting Arnolfo, the reputed 2-star Michelin in Colle di val d’Elsa, a town famous for glassworks.

The exterior of Arnolfo on a narrow street in the old town belies its fantastic exposition on the other side of a picturesque Tuscan landscape. Well, that is to say you benefits from that if seated in the rooms facing the windows. For anyone going to Arnolfo it is good advice to avoid the small square room with no windows containing four tables, each seating two people, set up in such a way that guests are all starring at each other.

The taste of the food throughout the meal was good in that there were no off flavours. On the other hand, the food does not taste Tuscan. It tastes "international" and as such it is a bit boring. It is the typical restaurant that wants to impress with presentations on multiple plates. The gazpacho served as a starter was ok as a gazpacho but the oyster with basil sorbet served á part was there it seemed only to make the dish more complex without a reason. However, the gazpacho was probably the best dish of the meal.

The ravioli with rabbit were good but the sauce lacked dimensions. It was served with a side dish of cubes of cold jelly of white beans and cold rabbit meat. I find it hard to see any justification of cold jelly of beans with its resulting rubbery and starchy texture. Why?

The lamb main course was prepared with average quality lamb that on top of it all was severely undercooked. I complained about the lamb and explained why I felt it was below par quality. The response was that it was as good as it gets in Italy and that you cannot find lamb in Italy on par with the best French lamb. Indeed true, I have never had great Italian lamb in an Italian restaurant. The guinea fowl breast filled with prunes and served with plums tasted of prunes and nothing else. It actually had such a cloying sweetness to it that made me wonder if it had not been more suitable as a dessert.

The wine list is fantastic and packed with reasonably priced great wines. We opted for a 1990 Barbaresco Giacosa S. Stefano Riserva that was magnificent and made the meal quite enjoyable despite food much too average for the price charged.

It seems that the state of gastronomic dining in inland Tuscany continues to be a sad story.

Gastroville rating of the food: 12/20.

Arnolfo also has a couple of hotel rooms. They are clean nice but the airconditioning was not really working on our visit. The breakfast is fantastic.
/Mikael J.

Joan Gatell

It is a treat to eat on the second floor terrace of Joan Gatell on a sunny day overlooking the harbour in Cambrils. As expected, Joan Gatell provided some excellent dishes prepared with fantastic seafood such as the salt baked red gambas.

Can Roca

Vedat wrote a negative report from his meal at Can Roca a couple of months ago. I can only agree with him. My meal at Can Roca, featuring many of the courses that Vedat had, was simply not an acceptable performance of such a highly regarded restaurant. I would even say that very little showed real culinary interest. Flavors were throughout the meal not very good expressions of the used raw material and many dishes had flavour profiles that came across as artificial or “industrial”. A smoked asparagus soufflé had asparagus flavors masked by a fire smoke-like taste that lacked the complex flavors of properly done smoking when the complex smoky flavors enhances the produce rather than kills it. The lingering flavor of fire smoke went on for much too long giving the impression of having licked an ashtray. I failed to see any culinary point with the mussels prepared on the Riesling theme. Except for maybe the final dessert, there was not even one single dish that offered interest beyond the first bit and not one single item served is something that I would desire to eat again.

Indeed this is often the problem with many of the Spanish “modernistas”. Beyond a first bite, the food is rarely particularly appealing and personally I rarely want to eat something more than one time. It comes down to different reasons such as the rare use of truly exceptional ingredients, flavors come across as muted or artificial and very often there is a lingering after taste that effectively kills the next dish or in some of the most worse cases the next couple of dishes. There is rarely any clarity or definition in the tastes at these places. On top of this, the multi-course menus offers many dishes based on inexpensive and pedestrian ingredients of not particularly good quality morphed beyond recognition and beyond culinary interest. The portion sizes of more noble produce are often too tiny to offer any gustatory highlights. At Can Roca, as meat course a rack of kid was served but only two ribs!! It was okay I suppose since the kid was of good rather than exceptional quality but was ruined by long sous vide cooking.

Can Roca is often cited as an example of an inexpensive 2-star Michelin restaurant and while it is true that prices are low in absolute terms, people thinking it offers more value for money than others will be fooled. Food costs – in relative terms - are likely on par with other restaurants. You get what you pay for. For food that is. With respect to wines, Can Roca remains one of the great bargains.

The bread at Can Roca does not even get my vote as being mediocre.

I would say that Vedat’s 14/20 rating was a quite a bit generous.

L’Esguard

I really looked forward to trying l’Esguard. It is easy to be intrigued by a restaurant whose owner is a part time neurosurgeon and who devotes much of his free time to his big passion.

The restaurant space is fantastic with a unique ambiance and there are many details that other gastronomic restaurants should take after such as the innovative lighting of tables.

The food was on the one hand visually very impressive and beautiful, in fact I would go so far and say that it was some of the most beautiful food I have ever seen. On the other hand the preparations where mainly unpalatable and those that were not, lacked with literally no exceptions any gustatory interest. A few dishes were so awful as a result from using unacceptable ingredients (old scallops, shellfish and shrimps e t c) that they have to be tasted to be believed. Ingredients that were not “off” were with only few exceptions of good quality. The scallop dish and the plate of “mixed cuts” were two examples of unpalatable preparations with the shrimps having actively nasty off-flavors.

Then there was a salmon wrapped in microfilm which must count as one of the poorest pieces of salmon I have had in a gastronomic restaurant. There was also a pigeon that was of little interest as far as produce quality and dish-conception was concerned.

The micri-film-crepe with chocolate mousse somewhat illustrated many dishes. A beautiful preparation but one cannot help thinking if the dish would not have tasted better with a normal crepe rather than the tasteless rubbery micri-film as a wrapping. Anyway, I suppose that it illustrates why micri-film has not become a great success with gastronomic restaurants.

Perhaps the meal at l’Esguard was partly tainted by abnormally poor ingredients, but even so, many of the items served were on such level that they should have never left the kitchen. It is difficult to rate a restaurant performing like this. Any rating in Gastroville terms of l’Esguard would fall well below 9/20.

Abac

Abac was perhaps a pleasant meal from some points of view but several courses were tainted by many too long lingering tastes that masked subsequent dishes. Some preparations were simply bizarre. Only the salted cod belly with peas pil-pil sauce was really enjoyable.

Paying high prices for food on this level always leaves me with a lingering sour after taste. Gastroville rating 9/20.

El Poblet

As already stated, it was El Poblet that delivered cooking on the highest level. Indeed, El Poblet delivered two exceptional meals that are possibly the best meals I have had in Spain. The first night we had the tasting menu mostly focusing on modern dishes and it was so good we had to go back a second time to sample more “traditional dishes” and it was perhaps an even better meal.

I have not been particularly impressed by the food served in the restaurants of the Spanish modernistas. On the contrary, I have often found the quality of the produce served in these restaurants to be well below what is acceptable and coupled with the often complicated technique stunts used by these restaurants a result is achieved that has a gustatory interest that is at best only a pale shadow of the produce in its original form and shape. At El Poblet, Quique Dacosta managed to pull off something exceptional because in many instances he was pairing extraordinary produce with intelligent use of modern techniques and the achieved results were interesting and sometimes new expressions of the used raw material. For instance his preparations with cephalopods such as The Other Moon of Valencia, a soufflé-like concoction served the first night was a stunning masterpiece that, while extremely rich, perfectly captured the essence of sepia in different layers of textures. It is a dish that just has to be tried.

The second night we had a another dish, this time with squids, prepared with sperification technique and it is one of the best renditions I have had of this technique that when used often makes you wonder what the point is. Dacosta's "squid's eggs" with a squid bouillon was a masterpiece.

An interesting dish was his The Living Forest, a plate with various items on that when eating gives the impression of being in a damp forest perfectly capturing the true flavors and smells. Perhaps a bit too sweet for the point at which it was served in the meal but a very impressive dish although admittedly nothing I longing to experience again.

Dishes that I on the other hand long to try again included his lobster salad, featuring top-notch lobster and a perfectly balanced salad with crisp, clear and refreshing flavours.

The raw material used was with almost no exception of highest quality such as fantastic red mullets and hake.

There were weak spots such as a lamb dish that was not on the same level as the rest and IMO prepared with lamb of only average quality.

Also Dacosta’s desserts fall below the standards of the rest he is serving. However all in all, Dacosta’s cooking often shows master class techniques and craftsmanship on the highest level and I was mostly impressed with the high clarity and flavors of most dishes especially during the second meal. I would rate the two meals, inparticular the second meal, the best I have had in Spain. The second meal at El Poblet would rank among the dozen best restaurant meals I have had so far this year.

Gastroville rating of El Poblet: 18/20
/Mikael J.

It has been a good summer, with a lot of good eating and I have discovered one of the most impressive and interesting young chefs I have ever seen. More on that later.
/Mikael

Another meal a few weeks ago unfortunately confirmed my initial feelings that this restaurant in simply not in the same league as places like l’Astrance, le Meurice or les Ambassaderus, restaurants that have received 3-stars or are in "the race" and where I have had multiple meals in over the last year.

Frédéric Anton has an impressive CV and has been awarded the prestigious MOF-title. Even if Anton is a chef steeped in the Robuchon tradition with a high level of rigour, which in Anton’s case is evident in some presentations, and the cooking at the first meal was reasonably solid from an execution point of view, there is fairly serious criticism that can be levelled against what the kitchen delivers. Some ingredients could have been considerably better and some ingredients can be criticised for being used at all. Let me come back to this. Even if there were some surprising and unexpected taste marriages hinting conceptual originality, they have pretty much without exception been unconvincing – for this level of rating by respected food guides - since they have not reached the required level of clarity and definition. For example, none of the appetiser soups served at both meals, at the first meal a mushroom soup, at the second meal a pea soup, showed sufficient clarity to be any good expressions of the respective flavours. Both meals also left much too lingering aftertastes from various dishes, a trait I find hard to associate with great food.

When reading the menus on both meals, I made one immediate and somewhat disturbing observation. Among the first courses and the fish courses almost every other dish features caviar from Aquitaine. I am a great “amateur” of caviar and will never miss an opportunity to savour good caviar. However, as interesting as great caviar can be, as negative impact on preparations can inferior caviar have. Aquitaine caviar is a relatively new produce that is considerably better today than it used to be 5-7 years ago, but frankly literally all Aquitaine caviar I have tasted have been marked by a flavour that I associate with farmed fish of poor quality. It is a specific taste that resembles the taste of soil or dirt. When farming sturgeons in Aquitaine, the sturgeons are let to spend time in clear waters and by washing the caviar some of this unpleasant taste is removed. The flavour is similar to the smell inside the belly of a farmed sea bass or turbot of poor quality. When this flavour is too pronounced, and it most of the time is, the caviar lacks any gustative interest. In fact I would go so far and say that it indeed almost always ruins the impression of the other elements it is paired with. In addition to this, the Aquitaine caviar lacks the crackling impression of superb caviar from the Kaspian sea when it is rolled on the tongue.

On the first occasion we put together our own tasting menu. Being right in the season for scallops, truffles and game, we opted for a scallop preparation done three ways, a truffle preparation, also in three ways, and venison as main course. The maitre d’hotel added another first course, namely Anton’s speciality filled crabs with caviar jelly.

The first course in the first meal was L’ Etrille Préparée en Coque, Fine Gelée de Corail et Caviar, Soupe au Parfum de Fenouil. It was a good to very good dish. Being a little nitpicking I would say the crab meat inside the crabs lacked some seasoning and while I am normally not overly sensitive to it, there were a few to many pieces of crab shell in the filling. Although well made, its components felt overall as from another époque, perhaps a little dated and not particularly original and the preparation lacked some clarity. The Aquitaine caviar in the jelly had no positive impact on the dish.

I queried the maitre d’hotel on why they chose to use Aquitaine caviar at all and his defence was that chef felt that when incorporating it into a dish, rather than serving it on its own, the way it was done with the crabs or with lime with the scallops as in the dish that followed, it was not that important to serve top quality expensive caviar. Perhaps a good way to dodge the problem with the obvious lack of cracking texture of most Aquitaine caviar, but not a very convincing argument to defend its tainting taste characteristics. I personally think it would have been better to leave it out altogether.

I for one am sure that M. Anton can do better and does not have to impress his clientele by serving second rate caviar in his dishes.

The other first course we had in the first meal, La Saint-Jacques Cuite au Plat, Jus de Pommes à Cidre, Crème de Noix écrasées et torréfiées, Fines Lamelles juste tiédies, Caviar et Zestes de Citron vert was probably hit on the wrong day, or I hope so. While the preparation was fairly well executed, the cooked scallops lacked the firmness, brilliance and taste of ultra fresh scallops. The caviar again made no positive contribution with the raw scallop slices but even without it would have been as a bland preparation difficult to justify the serving of. The clarity, brilliance and refinement of really great food that you expect at this price level were simply not to be found in this trilogy of scallops.

The third preparation in the first meal was a trilogy of truffles. One was Robuchon's classic onion and truffle tarte. It had a much too powerful and lingering taste from the onions that literally killed the truffle flavours. The nowadays popular beet bubbles, served at for instance Mugaritz and made by incorporating air in a beet jelly while it sets, here paired with truffles was quite good, but the visual effect of the bubbles is mostly of novelty value first time. The beet, comté cheese and nutmeg circles were good but being served on warm plates the comté took on a to my taste undesirable texture of soft rubber.

When waiting for the first course in the second meal I thought about these three preparations from the first meal none of which merited a Gastroville score higher than 15/20.

The first course on the second meal was another of Anton’s specialities, l’Os à Moelle, l’un perfumé de Poivre noir et grillé en Coque, l’autre farci d’un ragout de Petis Pois et Morilles, Mijotés dans un jus de rôti. Being an “amateur” of bone marrow, this preparation sounds gloriously delicious. I especially have a weakness for grilled bone marrow that has taken on a slightly smoked flavour which with the “jelly-fat”-like texture of bone marrow is quite a gustatory experience. M. Anton’s bone marrow was nicely cooked and had the right texture. Sadly, that is where the positive remarks on dish ends as the dish proved to be an assault on the taste buds. There was an over use of abusive shallots or garlic or both in the dish that survived the meal by some 6-7 hours. With some imagination, the peas served with the bone marrow perhaps tasted a bit like peas. The morels tasted like meat balls that has too over use of onions in them. It is hardly a one time kitchen failure since this is a reasonably easy dish to make for even an amateur chef without failing.

The venison main course in the first meal could be described as a somewhat pedestrian preparation of venison of excellent quality. It came with a bland sauce which had an interesting texture but somewhat lacked taste and consequently dimensions. The other garnish was simply penne with some parmesan and truffle shavings on top. The penne was cooked as they should be but the venison was somewhat amateurishly overcooked on one side and barely cooked on the other side. The whole preparation from a conceptual point of view gave a pedestrian impression and w